Just Keep Moving
by Thirteen Black Roses
Summary: Finrod reflects as the Noldor make their way across the treacherous ice of the Helcaraxe.


Hello Tolkien lovers! Finrod has been bothering me all day to write this fic (doesn't seem to understand that I cant write in class. Elves are incredibly impatient for immortal people.) So here it is!! Happy now Finrod?  
  
Finrod, oldest son of Finarfin, fought his way forward against the driving, icy wind. He could no longer feel his body, and trusted to habit to keep his legs moving properly. Ice crusted his eyelashes, obscuring his sight to the point where he could barely see. All of the elves in the host were in similar condition, but they could not stop. They had to keep moving. He mentally cursed his uncle Feanor and his sons, then halted that line of thought. They had already been cursed. The Valar had cursed all those who followed him after the Kinslaying, himself included. 'I should have turned back,' he thought. 'Why didn't I go back after the Kinslaying? Why didn't I go back with father when we heard of the Doom of Mandos? Why didn't I leave when the boats were taken by the Feanorians? Why did I listen to him at all?' He bit back a sigh. He knew why. He would not abandon his cousins and younger brothers and sister to their fate. He looked ahead, peering through the snow in the wind. His younger sister Galadriel struggled along in front of him, trying to move forward. He had walked behind her since the second day on the icy wastes of the Helcaraxe, when the first of their number had fallen through the ice to a cold, watery death. Since that moment he had always followed behind his dear sister, determined that if she should fall he would catch her, not allow her to die. There was another reason, if he fell...then she would not have to see him.  
  
A stronger gust of wind blew against the weary Noldor, and Galadriel lost her footing and was pushed back into him by the force of the wind. He caught her and held her tightly, drawing his cloak around her to offer her more protection from the bitter cold. She burrowed her head into his shoulder and they walked together, gaining heart from each other's presence. He looked around again, to see how many were still with them. They had lost so many to the cold, and to fall in the icy water meant certain death. His eyes fell on his oldest cousin Fingon. The recent events had been hardest on him, as he had once been a close friend to Feanor's eldest son Meadhros. Their friendship had become strained after Feanor had been banished from Tirion for drawing his sword on Fingon's father Fingolfin, but it had remained until the moment when they had seen the dim glow of the burning ships in the distance and known they had been betrayed. He looked back down at his sister. Her golden hair was white with snow and ice, her pale skin was dangerously white, and her lips were blue. His heart ached for her, though neither he nor anyone else in the host were in much better condition. Luckily none of his brothers or cousins had fallen...yet. But he knew there were children who were now orphans, but had begun the march with both parents. Parents grieving the death of their children. No one was untouched. Some might have stopped and laid down to death if his cousins, sister, and himself had not picked them up, forcing them to go forward. Just keep moving.  
  
A sudden, loud /CRACK/ split the air. Finrod felt himself start to fall and cried out, throwing Galadriel in front of him, desperately hoping that she would be far enough away to survive. He felt the ice break under him, felt himself falling, then felt nothing as the icy water deadened all feeling. Threw himself forward, and managed to cling to the ice, only his legs up to his knees in the water. Fingon and his brothers rushed to his side, gripping his arms and pulling as hard as they could. Slowly he was pulled clear of the hole, and onto the relative safety of the ice. He could feel nothing from his legs, not even pain from the cruel wind. He would have frostbite he thought dimly. He pushed himself up, forcing his numb legs to support him. He would have to keep moving. They could not wait for him, and there were those worse off than he. It was the only way to survive. Galadriel ran to him and embraced him. He leaned on her and Fingon and they began to move again. As he dragged his frozen legs forward he thought that he might not make it to Middle Earth. His legs needed tending to fend off frostbite, but they could not stop. Stopping meant death. They had to keep moving. Just keep moving...  
  
Like I said, Finrod made me write it. I hope you all enjoyed it!!! Finrod Felagund rocks!!!!!! No pun intended. Now you must review and tell me what you thought!! I know Galadriel was not called that until much later but that's the name everyone knows, so that's what I used. Flames will be used to heat my computer room. REVIEW!!!! 


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